


Nantucket

by pixiesnifffrobodong



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M, Merlock, Merman Sherlock, nantucket
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-23
Updated: 2014-05-23
Packaged: 2018-01-26 06:13:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1677737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pixiesnifffrobodong/pseuds/pixiesnifffrobodong
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John Watson meets the strange Sherlock Holmes during his first vacation to Nantucket. Over the many years of their lives, they reconvene at the dock where they first met.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nantucket

A ten year old John Watson took a moment to sink his toes into the cool sand before continuing to walk down the beach. It always happened like this, didn’t it? Harry picked a fight with him, and when he retaliated he got in trouble with his parents. Yes, Harry was his younger sister, and yes, it was up to him to set an example, but he should still get to defend himself.

John sighed, his shoulders sagging as he approached a small dock a little ways down the beach. The wood was peeling and a few of the planks were loose, but he figured he could sit here for a while to clear his head.

He made his way to the end and crouched down on his knees, staring at his reflection in the murky water. The sun was setting, casting a red glow over the ocean, and John looked himself in the eyes. This vacation hadn’t been much fun so far. His missed his friends and his home, and it didn’t feel like summer here. It was windy and cold and the water was green. Shaking his head, he plunged his fist into the water, splashing away his reflection and coming in contact with a hard bump.

“Ouch!” shouted an unfamiliar voice followed by a head of dark curls popping out of the water. “You hit me!”

“Oh!” John, startled, reached a hand out to pat the damp head in front of him. “I’m sorry! I didn’t know you were down there.”

The boy in the water jerked his head away from John’s touch. He looked to be about the same age as John, and he had light blue eyes that were currently glaring at the other boy.  
“Maybe you should be more observant,” the boy said, rolling his eyes before he continued to glare at John.

“Observant?” John tilted his head. He wasn’t entirely sure what that was supposed to mean.

“Observant like me,” the boy crossed his arms and leaned against the dock, his body still in the water. “For example, I know you’re a tourist. I know you hate it here and you want to go back home. I know you’re upset about a petty argument with a sibling.”

John paused for a moment as he took all of the sudden information in. This strange boy in the water who he’d just laid eyes on mere seconds ago seemed to read his mind. It was…brilliant.

“That’s amazing,” John smiled, crouching closer to the other boy.

The strange boy’s brow furrowed for a moment before he allowed himself a small smile.

“You really think so?”

“Of course I do. Why wouldn’t I?”

The dark haired boy looked away, shrugging his shoulders.

“That’s not what people normally say.”

“What do they normally say?” 

The boy lowered his head further.

“They call me a freak,” he mumbled, speaking into his crossed arms.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” John frowned. Now determined to make a new friend, he thrust his hand forward for the boy to shake. “I’m John, by the way.”

He hesitated for a moment before grabbing the offered hand and giving a small shake. “Sherlock.”

“What kind of name is that?” John began to giggle, using a hand to cover his mouth as he tried to stifle the laughter.

“Shut up,” Sherlock pouted, splashing John before going back under the water.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” John smiled as he looked over the dark expanse of ocean. The sun had fully set at this point, making the water appear completely black.

“Sherlock?” John’s smile faded as he saw no indication that Sherlock was under the water. There were no bubbles coming up, and the water was still except for the small, natural waves.

“Come on, Sherlock, I didn’t mean to make fun of your name,” he splashed at the water a bit in the spot where the boy went under, and when he still didn’t get a response he began to panic.

He reached his arm in further, soaking the sleeve of his loose shirt and trying to feel around for the other boy. He was just about to pull out when his wrist was clasped and he was submerged completely in the water. The instant cold took him by surprise, making him gasp and suck in a mouthful of salty water. He flailed his arms and legs, trying to push air out through his nose instead of trying to breathe in, until his head finally broke the surface. He gripped the edge of the wooden dock as heavy, wet coughs racked his body. When they finally subsided, he climbed out of the water and turned to see Sherlock giving him a look of confusion and concern.

“What was that for?” John’s chest was still heaving and he struggled to get the question out.

“You couldn’t breathe,” it wasn’t quite a question, and Sherlock reached out to place a hand on John’s chest as his breathing finally began to calm.

“Of course not!” John shook his head. “You dunked me!”

“You couldn’t…breathe,” he muttered to himself again.

Before John could respond, he heard his name called from far down the beach.

“John Hamish Watson!” his father’s familiar voice bellowed over the sounds of the wind and the ocean, making John realize just how late it was now.

“That’s my dad,” John mumbled, looking back at Sherlock. “He’s going to be really angry.”

“You have to go,” it wasn’t a question, and Sherlock was looking in the direction the roaring voice was coming from.

“Afraid so,” John sat up on his knees. “But before I go, could you tell me how you guessed all those things about me, you know, the things you said earlier?”

Sherlock smirked.

“I didn’t guess, I observed. It was easy to tell you were a tourist. It’s the middle of summer and your accent is unfamiliar for the area, implying that you came from somewhere far off. You were walking down the beach in a huff, and you punched the water which told me you weren’t happy where you were. And the argument with a sibling was a bit of a stretch, but what else does a boy your age have to be upset about?”

“Sherlock, that’s brill-” before he got the chance to finish his sentence, the neck of his sopping shirt was gripped tight and pulled so hard he had no choice but to get to his feet quickly.

“Damn it, John, you can’t wander off like that,” his dad’s voice was little more than a growl. “You know better…”

As his dad continued to rant, John turned his head to take one last glance at the strange boy in the water, but all he saw was a blue tail hastily making its way into the darkness.

[](http://tinypic.com?ref=al3r07)


End file.
